


The Road Onwards

by Beleriandings



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, episode 23 gapfiller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 23:22:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15035564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: As the Mighty Nein leave the Labenda Swamp behind them, Nott has a lot to think about.





	The Road Onwards

**Author's Note:**

> (Is his name spelled Yeza? Wiki says that's not the confirmed spelling...I will go back and edit it if we get official word on this.)   
> Anyway, have some Nott's past feelings, inspired by episode 23. (Feat. Caleb being a Good Understanding Boy....I'm proud of him)

The cart lurched and bumped on the uneven surface of the road as the swamp disappeared behind them. Nott ran her fingers idly down the soft feathers of Kiri’s head as she dozed against her side, the repetitive motion a calming one. A thinking sort of motion, which was just right for the mood Nott had slipped into since they had set out. And the long, slow journey had only pulled her deeper into her thoughts.

Frumpkin purred in her lap, as she watched Caleb paging eagerly through one of his books in the opposite corner of the cart, often pausing to peer at the stone he had collected. Inspecting it from every angle, occasionally giving it a tap or laying a finger on it, muttering incantations under his breath or taking a note in his book now and again.

She was glad he had found something useful to him; she didn’t know what it would be yet, but clearly Caleb had a plan for that stone, whether it had a lucky band around it or not.

She had been a little taken aback then, when he had told her so casually of something his father had said. She supposed at the very least it meant Caleb was feeling a little more at ease now – or at least she hoped so.

Perhaps that was why she had been able to tell him what she had, after that. Perhaps that was what had set her talking, brought to her lips a name she had not spoken aloud in years. 

_Yeza_. She had felt, in that moment, that she had to say his name; she had been ready for that. What she hadn’t been ready for was hearing it repeated back to her in front of everyone.

It wasn’t Kiri’s fault. Nott stroked Kiri’s feathers, unable to hold back an affectionate smile as she looked down at the sleeping kenku child. She just repeated things she heard; it wasn’t Kiri’s fault that Nott felt so shaken, as though all the world had been turned around with her in the middle, and put back just a little different than before.

It wasn’t even the others’ faults for making a _thing_ out of it. The truth was, she was less okay than they seemed to think, Nott acknowledged. And that was fine; she didn’t want them worrying about her, after all. But she was also less okay than _she_ had thought.

And she should probably address that. Now that was a rather frightening idea; Nott grimaced as she thought it, reaching into her inner pocket for her flask and taking a long swig. The familiar smokey heat of the whiskey at the back of her throat brought some sort of grounding though, as well as the first touches of the familiar dulling, softening the pain at the edges.

It was enough; enough to make her braver, enough to let her mind slip back to the past, to what she had been keeping locked up in her heart for so long, guarding it and hoarding every precious, scarce memory of what little joy she had had then.

A habit, really, but a pervasive one.

Still, she liked to take out her collection of shiny things out sometimes, just to look at them; memories were no different surely. She felt her eyes start to slip closed as she thought back.

The dungeon had always been cold; she remembered having guard duty there, and when she hadn’t been able to feel her fingers and the burn of spirit in the back of her throat and the expanding warmth in her chest was all she had. She was sure that sometimes it had been the only thing that saved her in that place.   
She had spent more time there than most, too; when she balked or turned away at the agonised screams of a captive, the torturer would punish her by letting her guard duty last all night without anyone coming to relieve her. If he found her asleep in the morning she would be flogged, and salt rubbed into her lashes for her negligence.

One should never cross someone whose whole life revolves around knowing how to inflict pain; Nott had learned early on that there really wasn’t much that separated someone like her – _weak, sentimental_ , and the worse things they had called her – from the victims they had locked in their dungeons. The only thing that stopped her being thrown in there too was her loyalty.

 _Fear_. Goblins dealt in it, used it as a weapon on their own people, to force her to comply, to inflict violence on others. Nott’s face twisted as she thought back. She had scars on her body from floggings, but not nearly as many as her guilt told her she should have. She had bent to their will too many times, it had taken her too long to be able to shake off the fear and break free of them.

The one who had taught her how to do it had been Yeza. He had been afraid; she had known that, of course she had. She had seen it in his eyes as she had held his chains with trembling fingers. But he had fought back, though he was sobbing with pain. Though fear shook him in the nights so that his chains rattled in the back of her mind all through the dark hours. So that the other prisoners screamed at him until the guard-goblin came in and put a stop to it, giving Nott a kick to the ribs for good measure, for allowing them all to get so out of hand in the first place.

The first time she had seen Yeza – really _seen_ him, rather than just looked at him as another necessary victim, made less of a person by the necessity of her closed-off heart – he had had a bloody nose, lip split and swollen. His body had been covered in bruises, one hand badly twisted and broken. He had been one of the ones who fought back; Nott had not understood why, then. But the ones that fought back always suffered the most.

She had asked him about it later, and he had told her, and from there she had begun to let her rebellious heart feel for him, for herself. It was from him that she had learned to be brave.

He had fought back against a guard who was hurting her, that was the thing. Not the ones who had tortured him almost to the point of death. He had been cradling a broken hand, movements jagged and painful-looking, and yet still he had yelled a defiant challenge at the guards when Nott had fallen asleep and they had beaten her for it.

She had come to him after, on silent feet, her heart in her mouth lest they catch her. They hadn’t spoken, as she wrapped his broken hand with a strip torn off the bottom of her cloak.

They hadn’t spoken the next night, either; Yeza had tried, but Nott had not dared to talk back. For one thing, she only spoke a little bit of Halfling then. He spoke Goblin, was picking it up very quickly in this dungeon, but for some reason the thought of speaking to him in her own language, rather than his, filled her with disgust.

And so she watched, and waited. And maybe she wouldn’t have done anything else, had they not assigned her to get information out of him.

They wanted to know about the halflings’ movements, their trade routes, anything that would help them rob and plunder and capture more. And they told her to interrogate him. She hadn’t done anything wrong in months; she had been keeping her head down, much as it sickened her, but it meant that they trusted her a little more now.

Meanwhile, the time in the dungeon was wearing Yeza away; he was significantly thinner now than a few months ago, his hair dirty and dull, deep shadows under his eyes.

One night, she had done something impulsively; she had stolen a few strips of dried meat, a crust of stale bread. Nott was good at taking opportunities at least, and a guard’s slip in attention was all it took. She hadn’t even been consciously thinking of Yeza, but then she realised that maybe she had all along.

She often thought about him, these days.

She had hurried to bring it to him; to get it over with, before someone caught her. Before the night ended.

When she came to his cell though, he didn’t take the bundle she shoved through the bars immediately. Instead, he had asked for her name. And, caught off guard, she had told him. Halting, a whisper, one syllable that somehow she still managed to stammer. “N-Nott. I’m Nott.” Her hands shook a little, as she held out the cloth-wrapped bundle. “I…I brought you some extra food…”

A nod, a hungry look at the bread and meat as he tore into it, looking up at her with gratitude in his shadowed eyes. His cheeks were full as he spoke, and it might even have looked comical if it hadn’t torn so painfully at her heart.

Or, if the words he said next weren’t ones that she had thought about every day since.

“Thank you, Nott. That was very brave of you.”

She had just stared at him at the time, for a long time. Like a fool, she had thought. But she understood now, what she hadn’t then. She had never pieced together in her mind the idea of herself as _brave_ , not before that day at least.

She had smiled, then, a little, just a tug at the corner of her mouth. It wasn’t much at all, but it was a start, the first step down the road that had led to him teaching her a little alchemy, to her stealing chemicals for him, to her helping him escape. To her leaving behind all she had known, finally having the courage to turn her back and run away. It had been a difficult road, struggling every day to survive. But it was the road that had brought her here, to this juddering and shaking wooden cart, had brought her Caleb and all that he had done for her and the bond they shared, had brought her the Mighty Nein and all that she was and all that she had now.

It had also been the path that lost her Yeza himself, in the end, and that still hurt, the wound hardly healed by time. But, she thought as her eyes flicked open, her head bumping against the wooden wall of the cart, there was no sense dwelling on that for now. Even if she was remembering, that was too much for the moment. She knew her limits, at least sometimes.

There would be other days for that. She stroked Kiri’s head once again, as Frumpkin woke and began to quietly and meticulously clean his paws. The cart rocked and bumped once more, nearly dislodging him from Nott’s lap had he not stuck out his claws and latched onto her with sharp pinpricks in her legs, and he meowed plaintively at the disturbance. The sound made Caleb raise his head in the opposite corner, and a moment later he was exclaiming as the round stone in front of him was dislodged and began to roll towards Nott. But she caught it in her hand as it bumped against her knee; it was slightly warm to the touch, and Nott felt the presence of magic, subtle and thrumming just below the surface.

She smiled, as she rolled it gently back across the cart floor to Caleb. He caught it in his outstretched hands, rewarding her with a smile. “ _Danke_ , Nott.”

She nodded. “What are you doing with that thing, anyway?” He did not answer at once. “I mean! You don’t have to tell me if it’s something to do with…” Nott frowned. She still didn’t quite have the words to talk about Caleb’s past, about what he had told her. She wished she could do better on that, for his sake.

But now, to her relief, he was smiling, holding out the stone eagerly. He had a conspiratorial look, as he leaned forward to show her. “Do not tell the others yet, but…” he placed the stone in her hands. “I’ve been working on something. And it’s not ready yet, _I’m_ not ready yet…” he drew his hand through the front of his hair, nervous for a moment, “…but it will be good, I think. Powerful. Useful.”

Nott nodded. “What will it…do?”

Caleb’s eyes shone for a moment with something that was almost excitement, she thought. “I’m going to make a transmuters stone. If I do it right…” he held up the stone between his thumb and forefinger, “then this will be able to store a little bit of my magic.” He looked her in the eye. “I could give it to anyone. I could give it to you, Nott. If you would like.”

She blinked. “I… but why would I need it, if I’ve got you?”

His face clouded a little, a small frown line appearing on his brow. “I might not always be there. I’m… I’m afraid for you sometimes, Nott.” He shook his head. “I know I’ll always be there, and” he lifted a hand to reassure her, anticipating her alarm at his words. “I’m not planning on going anywhere, or leaving you! But if…” his eyes went a little shrewd, as he stared at the stone in his hand. “If you ever felt like going somewhere…” he lifted his gaze to meet her eye. “If you ever wanted to go and find _someone_ , for example, and if that was something that you wanted to do without me, or the others… then I’d feel better if you took this with you.” His face softened into one of his rare smiles. “So I’d be helping you, even if it’s something you had to do on your own.”

Nott smiled too then, in surprise. “Th-thank you!” she said, and meant it. “But…what if…” even now, even though she had resolved to let herself confide more in him, it was still hard. It was hard to ask for things, but then, she reminded herself, she was braver than she knew. “What if…I _did_ want you to come with me?”

He looked surprised for a moment then, before his face split into an even wider smile. “Then of course I would do just that” he said, taking her hands in his; they were a little warmer than usual, from the magic she supposed. “I hope you’re not in any doubt of that.”  
“I…wasn’t” she said, realising it was true. Her mind was already racing, impossible dreams crowding in, clamouring to become possibilities. She frowned. “Caleb? Say that… there _was_ someone I wanted to find…” she said, tentative. “Not now, but some time in the future. You said you would come with me if I asked…”

“ _Ja_ , I would. Of course.”

“….Do you think the others would too?”

Caleb thought for a moment. “Ah…Nott, do you remember how they were when you told them about Yeza?”

She felt a twist of something in her heart, hearing his name in Caleb’s voice, said so casually. “Yes. They were weird about it.”

“I don’t think that was what they intended. I think… they want you to be happy, Nott. Just as much as I do. So… yes, I think if you asked them, if you wanted them to, then they would surely come along to help.”

“Ah…yes, maybe you are right.” She found herself hoping he was; but at any rate, Caleb did know about things like this. Nott certainly trusted him more than she trusted herself.

“ _Do_ you want them to come?”

His question caught her unawares; she had to think about it for a while, but he sat patiently and didn’t interrupt her silence. “I think…” she said at last. “I think I might like that, yes.”

Caleb nodded. “I think that’s good. They are good people.”

“Yes, they are. And I think they make us better too, you know? So if I go, I’d like you all to come with me.”

She was interrupted by Kiri stirring in her lap, ruffling her feathers as she awoke. “Make us better too, you know?” she trilled, in Nott’s voice, though it was still a little scratchy with sleep. “You know? You know? Like you all to come with me!”

Nott smiled, ruffling Kiri’s feathers a little as Caleb laughed quietly. “Yes, that’s what I said.”

And, she realised, she really had meant every word.


End file.
